


From my Eyes to Yours

by CegLgMn



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Blood, Jhin kills people, My First AO3 Post, Other, That's it, hah, i guess, idk how to tag btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:34:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25263163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CegLgMn/pseuds/CegLgMn
Summary: Just another one of Jhin's performance.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	From my Eyes to Yours

**Author's Note:**

> This was for a school assignment, so yeah.

It was a real nice catch, they were. I padded around them, admiring my work. My guns were still smoking from the performance that had everyone in the audience staring at the twins on stage in frightened awe.

It really was a sight to behold, to see the horror on the other twin’s face when she saw her sister getting shot in the heart. To see the sparkle of life draining from her eyes, and that life source being used to create this magnificent work of art.

Pearly white trunks of wood sprouted from her chest, entangling her body and locking her limbs in the motion. The vine’s curves and patterns were like those in the motion. The vine’s curves and patterns were like those on tapestries made by the best of the professionals. Alass, they would never compare to the chaotic nature of my work.

The patterns enhanced her form, making her motion of dance even more prominent than before. The whiteness of the wood contrasts beautifully with the raven black of the raven black of her features and dress. Such a pity. The black doesn’t get stained by the blood pouring from her gaping wound. My eyes instead trace the elegant patterns the vines that sprouted from her wound made.

That was only the first act.

How rude of me, as the director, to not let her sister join her in this dance of death? She had fallen onto the ground, frozen shocked from the state of the vessel that was once a cubicle of life and happiness for her.

I had my sights trained on her trembling form, and I pulled the trigger. Tendrils of inky darkness sprang from her abdomen, wrapping around her kneeling form. They chased after her sister’s white branches. They curled around each other as if unwilling to be separated again.

This time the blood stained, and stain it did. The white of her dress was slowly being soaked by the crimson red of her blood. Flecks of it tangled in her pure white locks, and her bright red eyes completed the image of a bloodied rose.

The despairing story of two sisters. One having met her fate early while the other watches her demise, unable to do anything but watch. The melancholic grieving rendering her incapable of speech and movement. Then, fate took pity on her, letting the twins cojoin in death. What a tragic story, but a terribly boring one at that.

That was act two. Cue in act three.

The sounds of the audience screaming and scrambling away was drowned out by the static ringing in my ears and the thrill of the kill in my veins. I laughed and laughed before a maniacal grin spread over my face. I can feel their fear. They are shaking to their very core! It is their horror that thrills my art, my performance. My audience! My amazing audience!

A glint of the barrel shows, the violin melody ensues.

Bang!

A gentleman in a fine suit was suddenly a splash of pretty sapphire blue and bright cyan streaks on the floor.

Bang!

A woman looking to be in her early twenties was crystalized into clear jaded green and bright golden yellow.

Bang!

Another person was turned into lush floral of every shade of fiery red and orange.

Bang!

And another had burst into amethyst butterflies of intricate patterns and elegance.

That was the beauty of my art. I revelled in their panic, standing on the stage with my head held high because I owned this place.

That was when I heard them. Not the frantic shuffling of the audience trying to flee, but the coordinated march of a united force. Looks like the law was coming to get me.

Let us commence the fourth and final act.

I stood in the middle of my creations unmoving, taunting them with my confidence.

Tap… I waited.

Tap…

Tap…

Click.

Metal lotus flowers, my personal designs, were scattered all over the theatre’s floor, and the idiots stepped on them. How thoughtful. The idiots stepped on them. How thoughtful. The troops halted in their movement as the flowers click and squeak. A faint glow emanated from the creases between the petals and they started to spin. The ticking accelerated, and the troops in a last ditch effort, starting running towards me.

That was their downfall.

Boom!

The theatre was filled with smokes of different colors as the explosives went off. Sparks of shimmering flecks and wisps of ethereal flames followed the explosion. The chemicals will eat at their flesh, and the explosive art be seared into their memory.

That is if they survived.

I then turned towards my real audience, basking in the glory of my final act. I bowed down low to you.

Did you enjoy the show?


End file.
